


Human Way of Living

by bilgegungoren00



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, hank gets robot son a gift, platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 23:10:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15496851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilgegungoren00/pseuds/bilgegungoren00
Summary: Hank gets tired - and frustrated - of seeing Connor sulk around his house, so he decides to do something about it.WARNING: mature language





	Human Way of Living

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all!!!
> 
> first of all, i just want to say: hotel wifis SUCKS. seriously, though. i had this one-shot written for two days - TWO DAYS - and i couldn't post it because the effing wifi wasn't working. ugh. 
> 
> anyway, i'm calm, i'm cool. i just needed to get that off my chest lol. hope you enjoy this!

Every time Hank returned home from work, he found Connor doing one of three things: cleaning the house, taking care of Sumo, or cooking.

The android revolution had been successful and slowly but surely, androids were gaining their rights; however, owning a house or having a job weren’t one of those yet. Markus was doing everything he could, but the guy wasn’t a fucking magician.

Hence, Connor lived with Hank—even though the android claimed that staying outside wouldn’t cause him discomfort, Hank was _not_ about to let that happen, thank you very much—and he spent his days at home. And…it tended to get a bit boring, compared to all the police business Connor was used to. So Connor took up new hobbies around the house—he read books, he learned about a hundred different recipes, he took care of Sumo, and he cleaned the house when there was nothing else to do.

Hank understood it. He really did. Staying at home the whole day without having anything to do must’ve been shitty, but if he saw Connor with a broom _again,_ he was going to lose his mind. Shit, androids hadn’t fought for their freedom so that they could go right back to slaving away.

Yeah, yeah, he knew it wasn’t slaving away exactly as Connor claimed the task made him happy, and Hank’s house had never been so clean before, but damn if it didn’t make Hank feel horrible. So, in true Hank fashion, he decided to take the matter into his own hands.

And he succeeded…after about a week of begging, writing multiple requests, and basically annoying the shit out of Fowler. But still, he felt like a giddy teenager as he unlocked his front door, entering the house.

Connor lifted his head from whatever the fuck he was cooking on the stove. _Great. He’s cooking again._ The android smiled at Hank.

“Hey, you’re early,” he commented. Hank looked at the clock. Shit, Connor was right. It was barely 3 p.m. Yes, Fowler had excused him, but he’d also come here in record time. Guess excitement did that to you.

“Yeah, took some time off. What’re you cooking there?”

“Mac and cheese.” Connor dug his hand into the pot to grab a piece of pasta and touched it to his tongue to check the taste. (The first time he did that, literally put his hand into _boiling water,_ Hank had freaked out and pushed Connor away from the stove. The android just looked _confused,_ for fuck’s sake, as if he wasn’t _hurt_ or anything. Hank had gotten used to it by now, remembering that Connor didn’t burn like humans, but it was still a weird sight to see.) “I remember you telling me it was your favorite food growing up. I wanted to see if I could recreate it.”

Damn Connor could be so sentimental sometimes. For a _machine,_ he certainly had a whole lot of feelings in his wiring. Hank smiled at the boy.

As much as he complained, he liked having Connor here. His house didn’t feel as empty anymore, and he didn’t feel like he needed to drown himself in alcohol to feel peaceful. Sure, the pain of Cole’s death hadn’t completely disappeared—shit, he didn’t think it would ever go away—but it had subsided, and Hank finally felt like he could be happy. It was all thanks to Connor.

He looked at the box in his hand. Well, time to return the favor.

“Hey, you have a minute there, son?” Connor frowned, looking up from the pot. It seemed like he decided he could leave the pasta alone for a couple of minutes, at least. He turned to the living room.

“What is it, Lieutenant?” Hank glared at the android. “Hank,” Connor corrected himself. Hank rolled his eyes. Two weeks, and he still hadn’t learned.

But anyway. That wasn’t the important thing right now. Hank tried to control his excitement to not give anything away as he patted on the couch next to him, the box hidden behind. Connor sat down with a confused expression.

“I got you something,” Hank informed the android, bringing out the box. Damn it was too difficult to hide his grin. He eventually let it slide, especially when Connor blinked.

“Me?” he asked, as if it was fucking unimaginable. Hank scoffed.

“No, it’s for Fowler. Of course I got it for you. You’ve been acting like my maid for the last two weeks. I had to at least pay you back.”

“Lieu—Hank, it doesn’t bother me—“

“Yeah, yeah, heard that one before. It still feels shitty.” He extended the box to Connor. “Come on, open it.” Fuck his excitement was getting the better of him. But he just couldn’t _help himself._ He knew how much Connor wanted to work as a detective again, even though the android never said it outright. But the signs were obvious: the longing looks he gave Hank whenever the man left for work, the cases he worked on overnight, and the number of old cop shows he was watching just _daily._ He thought Hank didn’t pay attention, but damn it Hank was a _police lieutenant._ There wasn’t much you could hide from him.

Connor took the box tentatively, his brows raised. He had just unclasped the lock when he stopped. “This isn’t a joke, right?” Hank must’ve glared at him in such a way that Connor just ducked his chin, blue blush dusting his cheeks. (Not that he didn’t have the right to question Hank. The man, in an attempt to introduce him to the “human way of living”, may have put him through a couple of his “jokes”. But in his defense, Connor looked incredibly adorable when he was confused.) The android opened the box and froze.

Literally froze.

A grin spread on Hank’s face. _Jackpot._

Connor’s hand was shaking as he reached inside the box to take out the badge—a detective badge. He looked up at Hank, and _damn_ did he look cute with that shocked expression on his face. “This is for me?” he asked.

Hank just shrugged, even though he knew how important this must’ve been for Connor. “I got tired of watching you sulk around the house, so I pulled some strings and convinced Fowler to hire you. As a real, full-blooded detective, you know, not just an android sent by Cyberlife.” Connor couldn’t even laugh at the joke, his eyes glued on the badge. “I knew how much you loved that job,” Hank continued, “and to be honest, you were a fucking amazing partner. Job’s not the same without you.”

Connor looked up, his eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know what to say,” he choked out shakily. Hank grinned.

“Well, that’s a first.” He put a hand on the android’s arm. “Come here, son.” And then he pulled Connor into his embrace, ruffling the boy’s hair. Damn, Hank knew somewhere in the logical side of his brain that Connor was an adult, but sometimes, when he looked so clueless about everything, when he looked so genuinely happy, it was hard to think that. It was hard not to think him as his boy.

“Thank you, Hank,” the android told him when he pulled back. “This means everything.” Hank could almost hear the unsaid words. _No one ever did anything like this for me._ The lieutenant just shrugged.

“You’re welcome…Detective Connor.” It was hard to miss the way Connor’s eyes lit up with that. “But I gotta warn you, we might be living together and shit now, but in the station I’m still the lieutenant, got it?” Connor smiled.

“Got it, Lieutenant,” he quipped. Hank was ready to glare at him for _not using his name again for fuck’s sake,_ when he saw the amusement on Connor’s face. Ah. So the machine learned how to joke.

Hank just smiled, for once letting the joke slide. This was Connor’s day, at the end.


End file.
